How a Mandoline Accident Taught Me to Slow Down in the Kitchen
I’m sitting on my couch, cursing to myself, to the world, and to the unearthly beings who allegedly rule over domesticity. My cats are looking at me in that particular brand of silent judgment that every cat owner knows too well. I just nearly sliced off the tip of my pinky on a Benriner Japanese mandoline I acquired a month earlier on a trip to Atlanta’s Koreatown.
I am livid. This not-so-little accident has thrown a wrench into my carefully orchestrated plans for the day. I was supposed to finish preparing meatball mix and Swiss chard pie filling for a dinner party later in the week. I also needed to clean, trim, pack, and vacuum-seal a pile of excess produce before it goes bad. Furthermore, I needed to prepare ingredients for dinner that evening, clean up the kitchen, take out the trash and recycling, and fold laundry. Oh, and I needed to do all of the above within an hour so that I could make it to the gym before it closes for the day. Somehow, I was supposed to make lunch happen during that time, too.
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